


Twelve Chimes Till Midnight

by EvilMuffins



Category: Dangan Ronpa, Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: Ballroom Dancing, Costume Parties & Masquerades, M/M, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-15
Updated: 2017-08-15
Packaged: 2018-12-10 21:52:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,084
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11700588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EvilMuffins/pseuds/EvilMuffins
Summary: During a masked ball held to celebrate the rebuilding of Novoselic, Gundam comes across a stranger who is oddly famililar.





	Twelve Chimes Till Midnight

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TereziMakara](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TereziMakara/gifts).



> I loved your masquerade prompt and jumped at the chance to give it a go! Hope you enjoy!

Although Sonia had told him the stories from her childhood, Gundam still found it nearly impossible to imagine that the kingdom of Novoselic had ever looked finer.

The creatures of the royal menagerie seemed to agree as well, Gundam thought, as he watched the makango he had just finished tending to roll down the lush, green hill in its spacious enclosure, pure contentment on its small face.

Building a sanctuary for the country’s unique creatures had been the deciding factor in joining Sonia in her home country, rather than returning to Japan once the Future Foundation had sent word to the former students of Class 77 that after months of hard work and good PR, their names had been mostly cleared. Nearly two full years had passed since the end of the final killing game, and the outside world was starting to rebuild.  

Although, save for the princess, the royal family was no more, their palace still stood. Once Sonia had moved back in, it wasn’t difficult for what remained of the population to accept her as their queen. The people needed a leader, a beacon of hope for their future, and Gundam was happy to see his dear friend provide just that.

He saw little of Sonia these days,  despite Gundam living on the royal property as groundskeeper. She was incredibly busy, and it suited her, as the former Super Highschool Level Princess she was in her element, chatting happily at Gundam about the various public works projects she had put in place during the rare occasions she found time to drop by her friend’s little cottage for a moment or two.

Gundam was most content with his current arrangement as well, spending each day in the company of Novoselic’s exotic creatures.

On this particular spring morning, however, Gundam was not in the highest spirits. A letter had arrived for him, brought over by a courier from the palace. At first he had only suspected it to be notice in regards to a new arrival in makango enclosure, but turning it over in his hands, it seemed to be much more important than that. Golden calligraphy glittered against the white of the envelope. Turning it over once more, Gundam picked off the wax seal to reveal a postcard-sized sheet with more hand-writing in the same style. While correspondence from the queen pertaining to the animals were typically typed up in Japanese in order to avoid any confusion, this particular notecard was hand-written in English. Although Gundam had learned enough of the language to get by in the past two years, his comprehension of cursive was still somewhat shaky. Still, after a moment or two of silently mouthing the words, he deciphered the fact that he was invited to a party, a ball, likely to be the sort that involved…dancing.

With a grimace, Gundam picked at the scarf he still wore, threadbare edges comforting between his fingers. The only saving grace he could find within the details of the invite was that guests would be required to wear a mask. Quite befitting for a master of the darkness such as himself, he decided, slipping the paper back into its envelope. Perhaps he could devise a disguise fearsome enough so that the mere mortals in attendance would dare not to touch his physical form, lest they burst into flames.

* * *

 

The following week passed quickly, and the day of the ball soon arrived. With a final glance in the mirror, Gundam adjusted his mask one final time, running his fingers over the ornate golden filigree that culminated in faux diamonds shaped like a tiger’s teeth set just above his natural mouth. Overall, he was quite pleased with the effect as he opened the cottage door in order to cross the grounds over toward the palace. However his mood was immediately damped- quite literally- by the pouring rain that greeted him.

Glancing toward his umbrella stand, he was quickly reminded that one of the Dark Gods had chewed through his only umbrella. He frowned at where the four small creatures slept together in a pile on the couch. It was late, and far too wet outside to rouse them into coming along. With a heavy sigh, Gundam set out.

By the time he reached the entrance to the palace, not only was he late, but he was certain that he must be soaked through to his very soul, rendering it much more squelchy than evil for the time being.

A footman showed him in, ushering Gundam toward the ballroom door, where he hesitated. The orchestra played with vigor as the other guests twirled on the dance floor at a dizzying pace that made his head swim (or perhaps it was only due to the water in his ears).

“Ah! Tanaka-san!” chimed the voice of Sonia as she trotted to meet him, mask pushed up on top of her head so that he could be certain of her identity. “I am so happy that you could make it!”. She spoke the words in Japanese for his sake.

“Greetings,” he replied simply, having dispensed with his cat-related monikers for her years ago.

“I’m afraid that I must get back to my date, so I cannot…how did our classmates put it…’hang out’. However, let me tell you that there is one rule for the night: No one may speak until the clock strikes twelve!”

“For what purpose must the Dark Lord hold his poison tongue?” Gundam inquired.

“Because everyone would know who you are, silly! What would be the point of a masquerade, in that case?”

As the queen spoke, a tall, darkly tanned woman clad in a pant suit and red mask beckoned her from the dance floor.

“I must be going now,” Sonia flashed an encouraging smile, before fixing her own glimmering white mask and reentering the fray. “Please try to have fun!”

Somehow or another, Gundam managed to bypass the crowd, making his way toward the refreshment table, which seemed like the safest place to wait things out. Upon arriving there, he discovered that another man seem to have had the very same idea, leaning up against the table as if he had been standing there for some time, arms crossed.

Rather than watching the dancers on the floor, Gundam found himself intrigued by the man’s copper mask, adorned with wires poking in and out of gears. Seeming to have felt Gundam’s stare, the other guest peered at him through the mask’s raised, scope-like eye piece, mouth turned downward as if he were about to say something, before remembering the evening’s rule and turning to fix himself a glass of punch instead.

Some time passed as the two loitered, occasional glances darting between them through their masks, enough so that Gundam began to slowly but surely think that something of a contest had brewed between them in regards as to who could remain there the longest without being asked to dance. Although, who would be brave enough to challenge a dark lord? The tiger skull mask had been a good choice after all, if it could disguise even his untold levels of malevolent aura.

Their unspoken contest came to an abrupt close, however, as Sonia approached the two would-be wallflowers.

With an impish smile, she took Gundam’s hand, leading him toward the opposite end of the table in order tuck it firmly into that of the dark-haired stranger in the metal mask.  

The two only blinked at each other for a moment or two, until Sonia, pursing her lips in exasperation, rested her palms flat on the small of either man’s back, steering them in the direction of the floor.

The orchestra’s joyful sound was suddenly drowned out by the pounding of Gundam’s heart in his ears as the other guests continued to twirl around them, some just barely keeping from colliding with him and his impromptu partner as they both stood frozen, hand in hand.

Gundam took a deep breath. The man’s hand showed no signs of bursting into flame, despite how hot and sweaty it was, so perhaps this mysterious person was of some merit after all, if he could withstand direct contact with a dark lord’s bare flesh. Gundam was suddenly somewhat impressed. Emboldened by this, he attempted to mimic the stance of the other dancers, placing a shaky hand on his partner’s shoulder.

Instantly, he felt muscles tense under his hand, fuchsia eyes growing wide through the openings in the mask, leading Gundam to wonder if he made a mistake, his powers too great after all. However, initial surprise shifted into a smirk as a hand deposited itself onto his own shoulder.

As the man took a step forward, Gundam understood: this was merely a continuation of their contest at the punchbowl. However now, the goal seemed to lie in determining how would lead the dance. _Very well,_ Gundam nodded, hoping to convey his assent to the challenge.

One step led to another, and Gundam soon found that they were cascading across the polished floor, erratic at first, causing other dancers to gracelessly jump aside out of their way, until finally hitting a rhythm that carried them through the night.

No longer did the hand he clasped feel clammy, now it was only pleasantly warm, and although calloused, surprisingly gentle in the way it grasped his.

Before Gundam knew it, a new sound arouse, much louder than the now-forgotten pounding in his ears had been.

_Clang clang clang_

It was the enormous clock in the main hall, he realised with a start.

_Clang clang clang clang_

Had that many hours truly passed? Perhaps the ballroom was a cursed space, where time flowed differently…

_Clang clang clang clang clang_

Midnight had arrived. It was the hour in which Sonia had said that the guests may begin to speak, revealing their identities.

Someone else seemed to have realised the same thing, judging from the way the shorter man cocked his head toward the door leading out the balcony.

“My thoughts exactly,” Gundam replied speaking his first words in hours.

Not dropping hands, the two made their way into the cool night air. The rain had ceased, leaving only a fresh scent wafting up from the grass below.

“At the same time, alright man?” his new-found acquaintance said, placing a hand to the edge of Gundam’s mask.

Nodding, he made to return the gesture, before hesitating. The man had spoken to him in Japanese. Not only that, but the voice had sounded awfully familiar, stirring something deep within Gundam’s gut.

“On three,” he declared, and once the countdown was over, the masks came off.

“You!”

“…You.”

Souda and Gundam accused in unison.

“But your hair, man!” Was all that Souda could think to say in excuse for not recognising his old rival, pointing at Gundam’s head.

“My hair fell flat from the nefarious liquid spewing forth from the sky. Tell me of your own.”

Indeed, Souda’s hair was no longer the bright pink that Gundam could remember. It was now black, and while still on the longer side, no longer braided at the side.

Souda shrugged, hand rubbing at the back of his neck. “It was time to go natural. I grew up, or something. Dye’s crazy expensive over here anyways.”

Gundam could feel his brow furrow. “For what purpose are you here?”

“Dude, I’m the queen’s mechanic. I work on Sonia-sa- I mean, the queen’s twenty freaking cars. Keeps me busy as crap. I never get out of the garage these days. Wait…don’t tell me, you’re the guy who takes care of all those animals on the grounds?”

The situation was almost humorous, and Gundam let out a chuckle despite himself. The two had both been working at the same place for two years, and neither had noticed. He felt his expression softening as he studied the sheepish expression on Souda’s face. Time had seemed to do much for their old rivalry, and truth be told, Gundam couldn’t remember the last time he had had so much fun with someone not covered in fur. Nothing else in recent memory had made his heart leap the way it did during their dance either.

“Would you…perhaps care to stay out here for a time more?” he ventured.

“Sure thing.” Souda smiled widely, flashing teeth still pointed.

The clock chimed many times more as the two caught up, shoulder to shoulder, elbows touching where they rested on the balcony railing underneath the stars.

 

**Author's Note:**

> [Gundam's mask](https://img1.etsystatic.com/154/0/8087274/il_fullxfull.1248972987_mrls.jpg)   
>  [Souda's mask](https://img1.etsystatic.com/134/0/8087274/il_340x270.1027273667_ghmn.jpg)


End file.
